


we were in love, we were in love

by imperialhare



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, just some vanilla-ass first time sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 09:34:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17159582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperialhare/pseuds/imperialhare
Summary: Samot and Samothes lie together and confess love to each other for the first time.





	we were in love, we were in love

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the contents of samot's room as discovered in SIH 11. [tearing up] what kind of lovey dovey assholes have a pre-engagement ring... dumbasses......
> 
> title from predatory wasp of the palisades, you already know what it is,

“You aren't going to run to Samol if I say no, are you?”

Samot scoffed. “I'm not a child anymore. I have my own people.”

“A collection of tents out in the wilderness.”

“I could run your kingdom someday,” Samot said, with more confidence than he actually possessed. Whenever they were thrust into conversation together, he couldn't help but want to leave an impression. 

Samothes laughed, and something in his expression softened. “Maybe so,” he replied, with a sort of easiness that threw Samot off guard again. “Alright, come watch me work. I don't know why my work would interest you at all, though — and the forge may be too hot for you to bear.”

Samot inclined his head, the merest gesture towards a bow. “Let me make my own judgements — my lord.”

Samothes paused, his turn to be thrown off guard then. “Just Samothes."

*

Their first kiss was shared under a willow tree. Samot remembered the warm breeze caressing his skin, the gentle press of Samothes’ lips, the feeling of Samothes’ broad hands at his waist — the utter surprise he’d felt when Samothes had caught his wrist and leaned in to kiss him. He’d expected to feel triumphant, but he'd only felt — terror and exhilaration both as he realized how well and truly he was in love.

“You seem surprised,” Samothes had said, voice low.

“I thought you were only humoring me.”

“I… thought I was, too. But then I realized it was more than that.”

What did that mean? Samot hadn’t been able to press further, his heart had been pounding too fast. That was — Samot wished he could say he didn’t know how long ago, but his mind counted each day that passed, wanting more of the warmth of Samothes’ skin against his own. Nearly a month, now. 

They had never lain together before, even though it would have been so easy to topple Samothes into bed or over his bench in the forge (where Samot seemed to spend so much time, lately) or even some secluded patch of grass, which Samot would never have hesitated to do with any man he desired out on the plains where he usually spent his time. They probably missed their king in his traveling city while Samot was here in the City of Light instead. But he didn't want to leave, not yet.

He arrived in Samothes’ chambers that night, wearing a silk robe he had picked out for the occasion. Samot smiled, shrugged his robe off his shoulders, let himself come to rest so lightly and so effortlessly against Samothes in his royal bed. It belied the way his heart beat in a nervous rhythm, wondering at what sort of lover Samothes would be. He had imagined all sorts of things, had heatedly contemplated the strength of Samothes’ body since the first time they met, the details ever-changing as he’d gotten to know Samothes better. Samothes’ hand on his hip, that was real now, their lips pressed together, the shivers that ran through his body as Samothes touched him, gentle and a little hesitant, his hair and his neck, his bare shoulders, his back.

“You really are gorgeous," Samothes murmured, running his hands down Samot's sides. 

Samot smiled, feeling heat rise in his face. Shyness was unusual for him — Samothes brought that out. Samothes’ plaintive look of adoration was something Samot could have never imagined on the king-god's face a mere decade ago, and yet here they were, Samothes' body hot as a furnace against his. Samot was — content? No, not content, he was a hungry creature and he always craved more, but he was happy, here, in Samothes' arms. Oh, he had always desired Samothes, always had respect for the man, but now the slow bloom of warmth in his chest that felt like at anytime someone might plunge their hands into his chest and wring his heart out, that was love.

“I know,” Samot replied, moving to straddle Samothes’ hips. “And you are unfairly handsome... my lord.”

“I told you not to call me that.”

“I know, but I like to fluster you.”

Samothes laughed, and suddenly grabbed Samot by the arms and pulled him in close, so that they were lying chest to chest, before kissing him deep, until Samot found himself short of breath. When they parted lips Samothes said in hardly a whisper, “I want you, Samot.”

As soft as an exhale, Samot replied, “I’m yours. Take me.”

Samothes flipped them over so that Samot was on his back on the bed, lying in the warm spot that Samothes had left in the blankets. He sighed as Samothes began to trail kisses down his neck and chest, and every time they met eyes Samothes gazed at him with such wonder, and pleasure.

“Is this okay?” Samothes asked, sliding his palms up the insides of Samot’s thighs.

“Oh, yes,” Samot gasped, throwing his head back. Samothes began to kiss his neck again as a calloused finger found its way to Samot’s entrance. Oil conjured itself to Samothes’ hand as it was needed; he pulled back to survey Samot’s reaction as he pressed inside. Samot’s hips jerked, his bottom lip caught in his teeth, but he still smiled when he caught Samothes watching him.

“You’re good with your hands,” he said.

Samothes pressed forward with his mouth to kiss Samot, with his hands to open Samot up wider on his fingers. He knew enough of Samot’s exploits (both what he’d heard from tales and what Samot had told him personally) to know that he hardly had to be gentle, and something about Samot demanded fervor, so fervor was what he gave, kissing Samot deep and with longing. Samot threw his arms around Samothes’ shoulders, pulling him close against himself, relishing the passion with which Samothes moved against him. He loved Samothes’ hands but that wasn’t anywhere near enough.

“Give me your cock,” he panted, the moment he had the chance to speak.

Samothes nodded, his hands moved to Samot’s hips, and then his thighs, pushing them up and back; Samot hooked his legs around Samothes’ waist and pulled him in. He felt the stiffness of Samothes’ cock against his own first, then against his ass as Samothes moved the two of them into position, and then— 

Samot cried out as Samothes entered him, felt Samothes’ gaze on his face, simultaneously heated and concerned. His lover was a large man and he had a cock to match, Samot thought, so thrilled he almost felt delirious. “Oh, you’re so big,” he gasped. “Oh—”

“You’re so beautiful, you feel so good—”

Samot pulled him in by the shoulders and kissed him again as Samothes slid into him, deep to the hilt, filling him up. He wanted Samothes to fill him like this forever — what grand wishes he had — was that just the pleasure speaking? How terribly he’d fallen for the king-god, so much that it was certainly dangerous — he had to enthrall him, had to make Samothes his. It was a drive that was as sure and as pointed as hunger.

“Samot,” Samothes moaned, and the sound of his name like that on Samothes’ lips seemed to fill Samot with heat, and with light. Well, that was only right. They moved together, Samot could feel the strength of Samothes’ body so dedicated to him. Samothes’ hands wandered his body like he didn't know where he wanted to touch Samot the most, wherever he could reach without disturbing their entanglement, cupping Samot's face one moment and holding his waist the next so that he could fuck him deeper, relishing Samot's moans as he moved inside him. Samot felt like he was burning, like he'd been waiting his whole immortal life for someone to hold him like this, he wondered if he'd ever felt more divine—

How dangerous this all was, how wonderful — how foolish it was that a god of desire like him could feel such joy in the arms of a singular man—

Thoughts burned away from Samot's mind to be replaced by heat. Samothes, inexperienced, moved against him clumsily in some ways, Samot wanted to know what it would be like when they fucked a second time, a fifth time, a thousandth time. The two of them could perfect each other, Samot felt that down to the deep pit of his soul. 

“Samot, I'm close—”

Samot wrapped his legs tighter around Samothes so that he couldn't pull away. Samothes groaned into Samot’s shoulder as he came inside him, panting with the effort as he came down, slipped out and rolled off of Samot to lie beside him. He said nothing, but he took Samot’s hand and kissed it before simply holding it in his own, smiling. 

“You are a wonder,” Samot murmured, savoring the feeling of Samothes’ slick left inside him. 

“May I?” Samothes trailed a hand down Samot's body to curl his fingers loosely around Samot's still stiff cock.

Samot made a small noise of assent and Samothes began to kiss him, slow and loving as he stroked Samot off. Oh, he _was_ good with his hands; the same fingers that Samot had watched shape delicate forms of metal on the forge were touching him now, just firm enough, just light enough, and with a soft moan Samot spilled himself quickly into Samothes’ palm. 

Satisfied, Samot curled into Samothes’ side, and laid there with his face pressed to Samothes’ skin for a moment while Samothes cleaned them both off with a damp cloth. He ran his fingers absentmindedly through Samot's hair, and even that small familiar gesture made Samot's pulse quicken again.

“Am I your first?” Samot asked. The question felt absurd the moment it left his mouth, knowing that Samothes was far from his own.

“Well… The first who has ever mattered,” Samothes replied, loose and warm beside him. “I don’t really care to take mortal lovers, especially compared to you,” he said with a small laugh. “But I can’t remember the last time that — if I’ve _ever_ enjoyed myself so much with anyone, as with you, recently.”

Samot laughed, pleased. He met Samothes’ eyes and saw the affection there.

Samothes paused before he spoke again. “I… can’t find the words. You take them away from me.”

Samot inclined his head. “My… a jab at my history?”

Samothes flushed. “I would never.”

“You are easy to tease.” Samot smiled. “When I met you the first time...”

“Oh?”

“Yes, when I was very new. You seemed as strong and unshakeable as a pillar, holding up the whole sky. You barely even looked at me. I never imagined I could make you smile, let alone… be with you like this.”

“Well…”

Samot hooked a finger under Samothes’ chin, tilting his face towards Samot's own. “Have I conquered you now, king-god?”

Samothes gazed at him a long moment before he suddenly grabbed Samot's wrists, pulling him in close. He could feel Samothes’ breath expanding his chest as he sought the words to speak. “I’m… not playing a game with you, Samot.”

“Samothes—”

“I love you.”

Samot felt his mouth fall open. Oh, he knew it, didn't he, hadn't he seen it in Samothes’ eyes? And yet he was stunned to hear the words, the crystal of Samothes’ intent, hanging in the sliver of space between them. Samothes was so vulnerable to him in this moment, he could see that, the desperation in his searching eyes.

“I love you,” Samot replied. His words, his intent, were a mirror.

Samothes simply stared as the realization washed over them, the joy of reciprocation — a smile broke wide across his face and turned to a wide grin — he was so handsome when he smiled. Samot wondered at how he must look too, laughing with barely restrained delight. 

“I — I made something for you,” Samothes said, fumbling for a moment. Samot thought he might pull something out from beneath the pillows before he simply conjured an item to his hand. Samot's breath caught as Samothes unfurled his fingers to reveal a plain ring — surely he wouldn't be so foolish, fools though they were—

“It's just a ring,” Samothes said in a rush. “It doesn't have to mean anything special, I just… you've been saying how much you like the jewelry I make, and I know you wear rings — perhaps it isn't your style, exactly, but—”

“I love it,” Samot breathed, taking it from Samothes’ hand and slipping it onto his index finger. It fit perfectly. The ring itself was simple, free of any adornment, and yet Samot already treasured it more than any of the bejeweled objects he already owned. Even an untrained eye could see it was the work of a master craftsman — of Hieron's first and greatest craftsman. “It’s beautiful.”

Not for the first time, relief spread across Samothes’ face. “I'm glad. I thought it might be too soon, but I couldn't help wanting to make it.”

Samot laughed. “Is it too soon? Yes, you're right, it is too soon, and yet…” He shifted his hand in the light, admiring the way the metal shone. “Thank you… my love.”

Samothes kissed him again, and brought him close.

*

On the last day that Samot ever stayed in his room at the University, he slid the ring off his finger and absentmindedly placed it on his writing desk. Strewn there were other things — letters unsent, little pictures that he'd made in his spare time, as well as the ones he'd salvaged from his previous life. That ring was the first gift that Samothes had given him. It seemed gauche to keep it on when he was to ride to Marielda that day to claim Samothes’ city in the wake of his death.

The metal caught the light just as beautifully as it did the day Samothes had given it to him. He didn't look back.


End file.
